Latchkey

Once upon a time, I was a latchkey kid.

I wasn't part of the club during the school year, since Mom would always be home by the time any one of my siblings or I came home... but summer time was a different story.

My siblings and I would stay home alone from seven in the morning until about three or four in the afternoon.

There would be times when Mooney's mom would come by the house and pick us up to spend the day with her kids (my cousins)... but that would only happen about twice a month.

The other times I'd have to find ways to keep my siblings from getting in trouble (because I never got in trouble). 

Like the time Sister was messing with super glue because she wanted to apply some fake nails. She was about four, so she was way more impulsive than she is now. Anyway, the glue cap was closed... so she bit the bottle... the bottle exploded, and it poured all over her mouth, neck, and shirt. I still remember she was wearing a Snow White shirt, and Snow White's face got melted onto Sister's chest. Sister was a screaming mess. I had to sit there and gently remove the glue from her mouth/tongue/teeth... and eventually the shirt. Sister cried the most because Snow White was mangled. We never told Mom about that one, we just got rid of the evidence.

Then there was the time Rafa didn't listen to Mom's rules of not going out and when he did play basketball outside, he got in a mean fight with one of the neighbor girls and began to choke her until she turned blue. It was more than difficult to pry him off her.

Or the time we were all wrestling (ok, this was one of the times I got in trouble) and Sister and I pushed Rafa off his bed, where he gashed his head on the drawer closest to him on his way to the floor... and he sat there, bleeding on the floor. We didn't know at the time of the scandalous nature of head-trauma... so we assumed Rafa was going to die and we all sat there crying and apologizing profusely.

In order to control Sister from getting too unruly, I'd force her to play "La Escuelita" aka "The little school." I'd give her a math lesson for an hour, reading lesson for another hour... then I'd give her a lunch break. After that, I'd give her a writing lesson for another hour, a drawing lesson for another hour, then we'd have recess where I'd let her play with barbies, or agree to play dolls (I've hated dolls my entire life, so this was a MAJOR sacrifice). Then school would be over. Sister dug this, and I didn't mind, since I'd get to chill and watch Nickelodeon while sister busted her brain counting or whatever. Once Sister started REAL kindergarten, she ended up getting skipped up a grade because she was basically a dumber version of me-- a five year old with the knowledge of a mediocre eight year old (she then surpassed me in the math, since she scored higher than I did on the Calc AP exam. Hell yeah I take credit for that shit).

Now, as adults, we don't get in trouble like that... and I can't control Sister with promises of teaching her how to add and subtract.

However, today Sister got to return the favor.

I was busy "baking" because in the process of cleaning the fridge last night, we found a shitload of apples. I decided (in my infinite boredom) I'd use some before they went bad... and made an apple pie (Yeah, I didn't know I was a baker, either... but apparently two years of watching the Food Network and Man Vs. Food does that shit to a person).

Anyway, I put the apple dish in the oven, and true to my nature... I totally forgot about it.

Fucking thing almost burned. Who saved it? My sister. 

Crisis averted.

I guess she now deserves that damn Game Night tomorrow.

I'll just... take a day trip to LA or something.